Текст книги "Alcatraz: A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years "

Автор книги: Майкл Эсслингер

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Warden Olin G. Blackwell: 1961-1963

The last Warden of Alcatraz, Olin Blackwell. Over his brief term as Warden, he relaxed numerous longstanding strict regulations, including those regarding censorship and visitation limits.

Deputy Director of the Bureau of Prisons Fred T. Wilkinson and Alcatraz Warden Olin Blackwell on March 23, 1963, the day Alcatraz closed.

Warden Blackwell pictured at the wheel of a motorized cart that he used to travel about the island.

The Warden’s office, located inside the prison administration area.

Olin Blackwell would become the last Warden of Alcatraz on November 26, 1961. A former rancher from Texas, Blackwell had come to Alcatraz from Lewisburg Federal Penitentiary in Pennsylvania where he had served as a Captain and Associate Warden. Blackwell was nicknamed “Blackie” and often signed his name as such.  He was only forty-six years old when he accepted the position of Warden at Alcatraz. He possessed a softer style than his predecessors in his approach, and was described by officers as being “very warm, with a coy sense of humor.”  He relaxed many of the strict rules that weighed heavy on the inmates for decades, which included allowing a greater variety of radio programs and relaxing regulations on reading and mail censorship.

During his brief appointment at Alcatraz, Blackwell was faced with a myriad of challenges. The prison was old and starting to show visible signs of structural problems, as well as deterioration of the primary utility systems. The lack of funding led to a reduction of staff, which left critical observation posts unmanned. Some criticized Blackwell for allowing such reductions to occur and many believed that without them, the final two escapes at Alcatraz could have been prevented. Blackwell was generally evasive when responding to these allegations, implying that the escapes had resulted from simple human failures.  Blackwell would prepare Alcatraz for its ultimate destiny in 1963.

Family Life

Despite living next door to the nation’s most notorious criminals, children found that growing up on Alcatraz was similar to being raised in any small town, with only a few exceptions. For examples, the children were never allowed to play with toy guns or knives.

Perhaps even more interesting than the prison itself were the families of the officers who resided on Alcatraz. During any given period the island was home to over fifty such families, with nearly one hundred children. The daily life of families on Alcatraz was unique and they were not unaffected by the strict rules that governed island operations. But on reflection, those who lived and grew up on the island have mostly considered it a rare and privileged lifestyle. Despite their own isolation from society and the inherit tensions of crowded living, they found that life on Alcatraz was like residing in a small and very close-knit community. Even more interesting was the fact that there was no crime on the island; no one locked their doors and the residents never carried their house keys. The families were kept fully isolated and fenced off from the prison, though its presence was continually evident.

Officers who resided on the island considered Alcatraz the safest place to raise a family in San Francisco. One former resident commented: “There was no crime in our neighborhood, we knew where all of the criminals were.”  Pictured here are four children posing atop one of the fortress era Rodman Cannons left on the island.

Family life on Alcatraz was hidden from the public until 1954, when Colliers Magazine published a series of photographs by William Woodfield depicting life behind the curtain.

Two young girls playing with their pet parakeet inside their apartment, located in Building #64. No dogs or cats were allowed as pets. The cellblock is clearly visible through the apartment window. The prison was a constant presence in the lives of both the officers and their families.

One of the most popular games for youngsters was “guards and cons.”  Toy guns and knives were strictly prohibited in any form, but the children made due using a banana or a stick as a stand-in. Wind sports were also popular. Using a jacket or sheet as a sail and wearing roller-skates, the children could sail across the parade ground when the sometimes-forceful Bay winds blew across the island. There was also a baseball diamond on the cement parade ground, as well as a standard playground area with ocean sand and a tennis court. Although at least one kindergarten class was held on the island, there were no schools on Alcatraz and the children would attend classes on the mainland, traveling back and forth daily via the prison launch. The Alcatraz children were very popular among their teachers and classmates. Everyone was interested to hear about what life was like at Alcatraz, and teachers were always encouraging the children to give class presentations. Kathryn O’Brien lived at Alcatraz for approximately two years, and fondly recalled:

I used to tease my friends and make up stories that worked to my advantage. I would tell them that Machine Gun Kelly waved good-bye to me through the bars that morning, or if one of my friends was getting picked on by a school bully, I’d warn them that I knew a lot of convicts and that they’d better watch it! Of course I didn’t really ever come close to the inmates, but it really worked. My friends rarely got picked on.

The fact that the only access to Alcatraz was by boat created special challenges for the residents. Few families owned automobiles, since most shopping was within walking distance of the Van Ness Pier. Fisherman’s Wharf was just a short walk, and the special Alcatraz boarding pier also boasted a special waiting room for residents and officers. Since navigation techniques of the era were relatively primitive, heavy fog or rough waters would suspend or delay launch operations, and occasionally a family would get stranded on the mainland.

Alcatraz sponsored several social clubs, including an all-girls club for teenagers called “Just Us Girls,” and kids’ clubs for the younger residents.

A children’s Sunday School class.

The small convenience store run by residents inside Building #64.

Alcatraz had its own post office and unique postmark.

Playground equipment built for the officers’ children by prison labor at Alcatraz. The cement slide was a favorite among the children, but was finally scrapped after the exposed steel at the slide’s edge tore a fair share of children’s clothing.

Alcatraz featured several recreational facilities for residents, including an indoor handball court, a pool hall, a two-lane bowling alley in the Officers’ Club, a soda fountain often manned by off-duty guards, a gymnasium, and a dance hall for island parties.

A teenage Christmas dance held inside the Officer’s Club.

Former resident Chuck Stucker recalled that some of his fondest memories were of fishing off Alcatraz as a child.

In August of 1954, Collier’s Magazine ran a feature story by Gitta Parker entitled Children on Alcatraz, describing their unique lifestyle:

The children and their parents occupy apartments and cottages dotting a four-acre section on the south tip of Alcatraz. Three hundred feet of distance and a barrier of steel towers, concrete walls, and armed men separate the circle of homes from the prison heights. From their windows, the happy boys and girls of Alcatraz have an unequaled view of one of the world’s great panoramas: the breathtaking Golden Gate and the cities perched around the Bay. Much closer at hand, they look down to the bottom of the island and glimpse convicts loading wash from the prison laundry onto barges for delivery to nearby government installations. Otherwise, the only prisoners the children see are the three or four trustees assigned to collect garbage and tend gardens in the residential area.

Although it was uncommon, there were some unavoidable instances when a resident would come in contact with an inmate. One former resident recalled an occasion when he had thrown a ball over a link fence and an inmate passed it back a few days later. Another remembered an incident when an inmate was tending a garden and left a small flower bouquet with a perfectly tied ribbon made from a vine on a cement step. The families were instructed that if they should come in contact with an inmate, they were to treat him respectfully, but not engage in conversation. Kathryn O’Brien related one interesting story:

“I have a vivid memory inside our apartment located in Building #64. I can remember seeing a small group of inmates chained in handcuffs and leg irons, and were being led from the prison boat to a small bus. My brother and me watched from a window as the inmates took small steps with the chains hampering their movement, and we could hear the guards talking to them. Thinking back, I guess it was kind of scary... I had made one of those colored paper link chain ornaments that I made in crafts for our little Christmas tree. I took it off the tree and had my brother place his hands and feet through the links and marched him around the apartment like he was a convict. I can remember my dad didn’t think it was too funny... You couldn’t help be influenced by the prison to at least some degree. It was a constant presence. Strangely enough though, my dad never talked about it. Even after he left the job, he always changed the subject when people would ask him questions about Alcatraz.”

Gardens flourished on Alcatraz in the moist and rich ocean breeze. Gardening was one of the preferred pastimes among the island residents.

Childhood resident Jackie Burdett is seen here posing next to one of the neighborhood flower gardens in 1938.

The garden located in the Warden’s side yard.

Mug shots of inmate and prison gardener Elliott Michener. It is believed that Michener was responsible for introducing many rare and unique botanical varieties to the Alcatraz landscape.

The new apartment buildings under construction in 1941, with San Francisco and the Bay Bridge notably visible in the background.

The new apartment buildings as they appeared in the 1950’s.

An aerial photograph with the residential living quarters in prominent view. Note the lawn and garden perimeter of the Associate Warden and Captain of the Guard duplex (bottom center of the parade ground), and the four officers’ cottages (right).

The duplex that housed the Associate Warden and Caption of the Guards.

Like their neighbors living “up top” in the cellhouse, the families were also subject to firm rules. The residents were not allowed to explore the island, and could only venture into approved non-restricted areas. No dogs or cats were allowed and there were strict curfews. Family members were required to stay at home after 9:00 p.m. on weekdays and after 11:00 p.m. on weekends. If anyone missed the last boat from the mainland, they would be stranded in San Francisco until morning. The families’ lives were governed by the boat schedule. There was only one telephone available for island residents to use, though another was added later. There was a post office, and also a small convenience store that carried a very basic variety of household foods and supplies. Phil Bergen would comment about life at Alcatraz:

“You never had to worry about someone knocking on your door and trying to sell you a vacuum cleaner, and the parents never worried about their children when they were outside playing. We knew exactly where all of the criminals were. It was a special place to raise a family. I consider my sixteen years at Alcatraz the best years of my life.”

The recreational activities available at Alcatraz were plentiful. There were ballet classes for the officers’ daughters, an indoor handball court, a two-lane bowling alley in the Officers’ Club, a soda fountain often manned by off-duty guards, a pool hall, a gymnasium and a dance hall for island parties. There was a women’s club, a club for the young adult girls called Just Us Girls(J.U.G.s), and a kids’ club for the youngest residents. The most popular activities for the island families were the holiday events. There were Christmas musicals, a special Santa Claus visit, and even shows for Halloween. Special dances were held frequently for both the officers and the teenagers, and talent shows were always a town favorite. During the 1950’s the Women’s Club printed cookbooks that were advertised in Sunset Magazine. Profits from the book sales help fund the special events. As one resident would remember: “People would buy the cookbooks as gifts just so they could collect the Alcatraz Postmark.”

The unique location of Alcatraz also provided residents with a special perk that most men would envy. As former resident Chuck Stucker would recall: “Alcatraz was the best fishing site in San Francisco. ”  Stucker had many fond childhood memories of fishing with his father, who retired as a Lieutenant, and with an uncle who served as both a Captain and Associate Warden, as well as with a cousin who worked as an officer. But most unique were his memories of fishing with Warden Madigan’s wife, who also enjoyed the sport.

Several family members would also have a very rare opportunity to see behind the secret curtain that veiled the workings of the prison. Before the prison staff returned the motion pictures that were shown to the inmates every two weeks, the families would be taken in a large group into the upstairs theatre to have their turn to watch the films. While waiting in the visiting area before being led upstairs, the residents could peek through the thick bulletproof glass and get a rare glimpse into the cellhouse.

The Warden’s fourteen-room mansion, built during the military period in 1922. It was decorated with beautiful wooden furniture made from black oak by inmates at Fort Leavenworth. James V. Bennett wrote: “Warden Johnston’s home on the peak of the rock was like the pilothouse of a ship at anchor in the bay, beneath the cottony clouds. At night I would stand at the guest-room window and listen to the steel doors of the cellblocks clanging open and shut while the guards said to one another, as if they were at sea, ‘All’s well.’”

A view of the Warden’s Spanish-Mission-style mansion from the parade ground.

Island electrician Frank Brunner is pictured here walking from the Warden’s residence in an extremely rare San Francisco snowfall.

A photograph showing the prison bus and jeep bearing the Department of Justice seals. The bus was the primary mode of transportation between the cellhouse and the dock for staff and inmates.

The Chief Medical Officer’s residence, located next door to the Warden’s mansion.

The Warden also lived on the island with his family, occupying a majestic fourteen-room Spanish-Mission style mansion that was located only a few steps from the prison entrance. The mansion had been constructed by military prisoners in 1922 and it featured a spectacular panoramic view of San Francisco as well as its own lush garden. The furnishings were made from beautiful black walnut, which had been constructed by inmates at Leavenworth. The wardens all employed exemplary prisoners known as “passmen” to cook and clean at the residence, and every thirty minutes these inmates would emerge onto the front porch, where they would stand until they had been counted by an officer who could see them through a prison administration window. James V. Bennett, the Director of the Bureau of Prisons, would later write in his 1970 memoir:

Warden Johnston’s home on the peak of the rock was like the pilothouse of a ship at anchor in the bay, beneath the cottony clouds. At night I would stand at the guest-room window and listen to the steel doors of the cellblocks clanging open and shut while the guards said to one another, as if they were at sea, “All’s well.”  I spent the evening in Warden Johnston’s living room before a cheerful fire in the grate. Whenever a gust of wind blew down the chimney, scattering ashes in the hearth, a white-jacketed houseman entered the room noiselessly, swept the ashes back into the fireplace, and withdrew. He must have been watching all the time.

But there were a few occasions when the cracking sound of gunfire broke the calming rustle of the ocean waves – a stark reminder that the surrounding barbwire and chain-linked fencing could not fully isolate residents from the dangers of living inside the gates of the nation’s most notorious prison. The sound of the wailing escape siren was a signal much feared by residents, because it could indicate that a loved one was in harm’s way. At these times, families were instructed to remain inside their homes until they were notified that the island was secured and safe.

Another favored pastime at Alcatraz was gardening. When the families of the first military inhabitants of Alcatraz put down roots, they planted Victorian-style gardens that would flourish in the seaside climate. Gardening became a popular activity for many of the residents, and some of the plant life introduced by the military families in the 1800’s still thrives even today. During the military years, the families held small parties in their lush, Victorian-style gardens. Gardening continued to be a popular pastime through the successive generations of Alcatraz residents. These ranged from Civil War soldier families to gangster era criminals assigned to the various work details, such as inmate Elliott Michener, who reportedly introduced many rare and unique botanical varieties to the Alcatraz landscape. Ultimately, Alcatraz would be home to nearly 145 non-native garden species and flowers such as red-hot pokers and snapdragons carpeted the once barren rock with splendid colors. There were also beautiful rose varieties, as well as poppies and blackberries. There was even a children’s rock garden which Phil Bergen established adjacent to the parade ground. Many of the trees planted during the military period still prosper today in the salt-misted air.

Island Transit

The Warden Johnston served as the island’s passenger launch from 1945 to 1961.

Transit by boat was the only means of access to Alcatraz and was always manned by uniformed officers.

The children of Alcatraz traveled to and from school everyday via the island launch.

A series of photographs showing island residents disembarking at the Van Ness Street Pier.

Candid views inside the prison launch in 1954.

The Warden Johnston was specifically designed and built for ferrying residents, personnel, and inmates to and from Alcatraz. The boat was constructed by prisoners at McNeil Island Penitentiary. The Warden is seen here in dry dock before its launch on June 1, 1945.

The Warden Johnston following her maiden launch on June 20, 1945, in the waters of Puget Sound.

For the correctional officers and their families, the only link to mainland society was by boat. Traveling to and from the island proved challenging and during periods of inclement weather, it was frightening to hear the foghorns of larger vessels closing in, and be unable to see them. Each day the families were ferried back and forth, and this routine became an integral part of their daily lives. The residents were at the mercy of the daily boat schedule, which could be problematic at times. If they missed the boat, they would have to wait another hour for the next scheduled run. In stormy weather it could also be challenging to navigate the gangplank onto a rocking deck. Kathryn O’Brien remembers:

I was afraid of the plank falling into the water when the weather was stormy, and I can remember the boat officer grabbing me by the arm and helping me into the boat. The guards always made us feel safe

In a poetic reminiscence of his travels aboard the Warden Johnston, former resident Robert Burrill wrote in a letter:

The countless adventures going to and from the island are what I remember the best. Waiting in the protective staging area near the water’s turbulent edge, we would first hear the bright sound of the Warden’s horn announcing the boat’s arrival. Excited, we would rise from our benches, gather up our travel bags, and button up our coats to begin the short walk to the loading dock. There ahead of us, in the choppy waters that lined the adjacent pier, we would first see the Warden Johnston, turning as she approached the dock. With the red and green running lights turned on, the Warden would slow its speed, which caused it to begin a rocking motion up and down, and then it would carefully choose its approach through tidal conditions that were challenging, and always changing. My eyes would go toward the pilot house, adorned with five wood-framed windows that looked like attentive eyes, wide open and focused on the dangerous task at hand. For an instant, the Warden’s character would be revealed as the boat came to life. It was a bright, handsome, white-faced, wooden boat; a spirit – proud and courageous for all to witness; a bounty, a soul. Then the guard standing above the bow bridges the notion, anticipating and holding the gaffing hook on a pole with which he slowly reaches for, then skillfully mates with the hanging docking line; the second guard at the controls spins the pilot wheel and reverses the throttle, kicking up white water and a stream of smoke from the stack while easing the port side slowly, carefully into contact with the rubber tire bumper, while the first guard walks back to tie off the stern. Then the railing hinge would be swung open, signaling the passengers on board to debark. The conversations were always friendly, because everybody knew each other. Finally it would be our turn to go down the swaying gangplank amid the cold air blowing up from the water's surface, and the odors of the sea splashing up and under the dock pilings that were textured with barnacles, black tar and the occasional starfish. Being helped on board by the strong, warm hands of a guard, following the passengers to the back of the boat, climbing down into the warm main cabin, and sitting on the beautiful wooden benches as the salt water splashed on the windows –these are the memories that stay in my mind. Traveling on board the Warden Johnston was like a trip to Disneyland. The moans and vibrations of the engine below our feet, the rocking motion of the boat as he – or "she" – is put into gear. First she floats away from the pier, often aided by the push of a guard's feet as he hops on board. Then backward away from the dock, a change in direction, and the visual difference of a changing horizon. First away from the adjacent pier, and then the flow of the water, the wake, and a quick view of Alcatraz in the distance, as the Johnston completes its turning maneuvers and departs into the San Francisco Bay. Here the wind picks up, and the Johnston begins to pitch in a swell. Salt water sprays the windows, periodically causing the windowpane to wash out of focus. Here the trip would feel like we were running in place, not really moving – and then suddenly the island, The Rock would slide into view, and the sensation of motion would return, gliding past the large, majestic green and black rocks, the eucalyptus and bay-leafed trees, and the large black and white warning sign: "Cable Crossing Do Not Moor."  Then the stockade buildings would appear, large and strong with a wide staircase leading up diagonally, and then the main guard tower. A gentle reminder that Alcatraz was indeed a prison.

During the island’s initial years as a federal penitentiary, the primary vessel for mainland access was a boat named the McDowell, which was approximately fifty feet in length and had a seating capacity of thirty-eight. In May of 1941, planning was commenced to build a boat specifically for Alcatraz. The new vessel was constructed by prisoners at McNeil Island Penitentiary, overseen by professional boat builders Everet Soldin and Woody Woodruff. The boat was completed and launched into service in June of 1945. The Warden Johnstonwas a sixty-five-foot wooden-framed vessel with a seventeen-foot beam, and it weighed sixty tons. This boat served as the island’s passenger launch from 1945 to 1961. The Warden Johnstonmade approximately 140,000 trips during its service life. In March of 1961 the island newsletter, the Foghorn, featured a heartfelt parting letter written when the Warden Johnstonwas retired from service:

Farewell to an Old Friend

Early in the morning one summer's day in 1945, its sturdy and graceful lines glistening under its recent coating of paint, a newly commissioned launch floated from out the McNeil Island shipyards headed for Alcatraz where it was destined to spend most of its entire nautical career as a passenger boat between the Island and San Francisco. For 16 years it plied the waters of the Bay, as much a representative of the area as Coit Tower or the Ferry Building or Alcatraz, itself.

Constructed by prison inmate labor following plans drawn by Bureau draftsmen, the launch was named in honor of the late Warden James A. Johnston, the then beloved Chief Magistrate of Alcatraz.

The "Warden Johnston" was more than a vehicle of transportation, it was a way of life, the link to the outside world. It took the children to school, the sick to the hospital, housewives shopping, the light of foot dancing; it brought food, news, mail, visitors, doctors; in short, it became to the residents as indisputably a part of their lives as their toothbrushes. It was used as a freighter by Federal Prison Industries, as a rescue boat to sailors in distress, a gunboat in search of prisoners; it was a link in the transfer and discharge of inmates; it was one of the forces around which local activities revolved.

Now the "Warden Johnston" is gone, a victim of the auctioneer's gavel. Even to the end she transported herself with the same dignity that identified her throughout her reign. And as she rode away from the Alcatraz docks for the last time Thursday, February 16th, the residents began to know the feeling that would be England's if she were ever to lose the "Rock of Gibralter."

A Korean War supply vessel that had been converted into a high-bowed passenger cruiser replaced the Warden Johnstonin 1961, and was christened the Warden Madigan. The name was changed to the Warden Blackwellfollowing the new appointment. In maintaining the continuity of the island’s unique society, the warden would always remain as the central authority figure, setting the tone of life on Alcatraz not only for the prisoners and the guards, but for all of the inhabitants.